i dare you to say they taste the same
by Indecisively Yours
Summary: Regina has her best interest at heart. At least, career wise, emma's sure of that. Killian's not the biggest fan of that (especially when what's best for her career means her dating someone else.) ModernCS!AU


part two of the _folie à deux_ series

'i don't care'

* * *

The small beep of the key card at her hotel room door brings a sense of relief to Emma's ears. After a long day out, made even worse by a long night and a date that dragged on forever, all Emma wants is to take a warm shower and curl up in bed with the super plush and super comfortable robe and order room service until kingdom come.

She kicks off her heels at the door, texts her publicist Regina that she'll be indoors for the rest of the night, and throws her phone off to the small chair by the door, purse following shortly after. Her dress comes off next, a skin tight black number Regina told her would be great for the floods of paps that were sure to follow her out tonight, pooling on the floor as she steps out of it

"Now that's an excellent way to greet a man, love."

Startled, Emma covers herself up, but when she catches sight of the man sitting in the corner chair of the room, smirk on his lips with an eyebrow raised, she sighs and drops her hands. She won't let him know what the sight of him's doing to her, but she has a feeling her standing there in a red lace number's definitely doing something for him.

"I don't remember giving you a key, Killian."

"Don't recall asking for one, Swan."

She can't help but roll her eyes, walking into the bathroom to grab an elastic hair tie and throw her hair up into a ponytail. When she walks out, he's already kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable in bed.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

"I was in town. I heard you were staying here and went out on a date tonight."

Emma raises a brow. Killian counters it. She knows it sounds an awful lot like jealousy, but he won't admit it. He never has.

In their months of sneaking around, Killian's never admitted to being jealous. Sure, he's not fond of the fact that her publicist (and his—they met through her, oddly enough) has forbidden a relationship between the two of them in favor of her dating someone else (Graham's his name, he thinks), stating it to be bad for Emma's image right now. That doesn't mean he won't find a loophole around her rule.

"Graham and I had a great time, if you wanna know," she tells him. She turns to the dresser, peeling off those atrocious eyelashes Tink had put on her this morning before her interview. "He was nothing but a gentleman."

"Really?" Killian whispers in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, and she hates when he manages to sneak up on her. "I'm sure that's exactly what you wanted," he says, lips trailing kisses from her ear to her shoulder. "A gentleman."

His hand, the one she should have been paying attention to, rests on her bare stomach. Ever so slowly, he trails his hand down, stopping when he reaches the waistband of her panties.

"It's been a nice change," she tells him, voice anything but normal as she feels the arousal begin to pool inside of her, shutting her eyes.

"Has it?" he asks, pressing himself against her. Even through his jeans she can feel the hard-on he has no intention of hiding. She swallows past the lump in her throat, opening her eyes.

He keeps eye contact with her through the mirror and she only breaks it to follow the trail his other hand makes toward her bra. It slips under the fabric, cupping her breast before squeezing it lightly.

"Yes," she moans softly. She gasps when his hand slips underneath the fabric of her panties and one of his fingers slides through her now wet folds. She can't help herself, hips jerking forward at his touch as she throws her head back onto his shoulder and bites her bottom lip. "Oh, yes."

His finger moves lazily against her clit as his lips press kisses to her exposed neck. "Did he try anything?" he asks, and he smirks at the small smile that forms on her lips. That teasing finger moves lower, teasing her entrance as his thumb resumes what the other left off. "Anything like this?"

"It's only been the second date," she reminds him. "I don't..."

Killian quickly removes his hands, leaving Emma with a small noise of disapproval in her throat. He turns her around, her ass quickly hitting the dresser as he pushes her against it.

"Did he kiss you?" he quickly asks. She can see the fire in his bright blue eyes.

"Killian..." she begins to say as her hand trails up his chest. That's a question she doesn't want to answer, but she has a feeling he knows the answer to it already.

He crushes her lips with his, one hand cupping her face to deepen the kiss while the other wraps around her and pulls her closer. His arousal's more than evident now.

She reaches between them, tugging at his belt and loosening it before unbuttoning his jeans. While his lips are on hers, tongue moving against her own, he reaches for her panties and pushes them off her hips. They fall to the floor just as his own boxer-briefs fall as well; he doesn't bother stepping out of them like she does.

In one swift motion, he lifts her up onto the dresser, lines up against her, and enters her. She pulls away from his lips, gasping for air as her hands hold onto his shoulders and she follow his jagged rhythm.

His lips latch onto her neck, lingering there as he establishes a steady rhythm and continues to thrust into her. He thrusts harder and harder as his fingers grip her hips and she can't help but moan into his ear.

When he gets like this, after her dates (before it was with August and Regina's failed attempt at making that happen), she lets him be. This wildly passionate version of him—the one that likes to remind her she's his and he's hers alone because he can't scream it to the world—gets her heart racing each time.

"Killian..." she whispers in his ear.

"Together," he breathes.

He thrusts into her twice more before she's coming undone and he's right there alongside her. He drops his head to her shoulder, catching his breath.

"God, Swan, I love you," he says, ragged breath and all.

Any other moment, any other person, and Emma Swan would have run. She would have pushed him away, thrown his clothes at him, and urged him to get out. She would have been filled with so much fear at the admission that she would have been stuck, unsure of what to do.

Instead, she presses a kiss just below his ear, fingers running through his hair as she rides down this high with him. "I know," she whispers.

 _I love you, too_.

When he pulls away, she drags him into the bath with him, resting her back against his chest as they enjoy the chocolate-covered strawberries she had ordered moments before.

And when they finish, mouths sticky from the sweet fruit, she drags him into the shower with her, too. He grabs the shampoo bottle before she does and helps her with her hair.

Killian Jones is the one, everyone else's thoughts on that be damned. If she didn't realize this before, she definitely did now.

They end up in bed, wrapped up in those amazingly plush robes, finishing off remnants of the second round of strawberries that came with the first.

She uses his chest as a pillow as she begins to doze off, curled up into his side, legs tangled with his as he keeps an arm thrown around her.

"Killian," she says softly, fighting the pull of sleep. The hand that's slipped underneath the opening of his robe moves against his torso.

"Yes, love?" he asks, pressing a kiss to her head as she hears the channels change yet again. She smiles at that too, because she loves his inability to sit through commercials.

"I love you, too."

"I know."

She looks up at him, momentarily wide awake. "You do?"

"Oh yeah." She rests her head down on his chest again, not fighting the smile that's formed on her lips. "At least, I had a feeling. I'm glad to know you've proven me correct."

The smile stays on her face long after she falls asleep.

.

.

.

When she wakes up in the morning, naked body flush against his own because of course she woke up in the middle of the night craving _him_ and of course he obliged, she realizes it's now or never.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks as he slips his shoes on and stands up.

"Positive," Emma tells him.

He follows her out of the hotel room and into the elevator, thanking God they've ended up alone on the ride down.

"She'll have both our heads, love. Not to mention the misery the magazines might try to put you through."

Emma reaches out and grabs Killian's hand, lacing their fingers together.

"At least we'll be happy."

She leans up and kisses him; he pulls her back, kisses her again before the elevator doors ding open.

When they step outside, she's almost blinded by the camera flashes. Killian, equally used to this, maneuvers her expertly to the car awaiting them. He opens the door for her. Just as she gets in, he turns her around and places a kiss on her lips.

"So there aren't any doubts."

"There never were," she tells him, and she feels like they're talking about more than the paps snapping pictures behind them.

(Safe to say, after dinner with her brother on the other side of town hours later, both of their phones have been blown up by texts or missed calls from Regina. It's worth it.)


End file.
